


Scars

by theoldthetruethebrave



Category: Asoiaf - Fandom, Jonsa - Fandom, game of thrones
Genre: F/M, jonsa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 19:41:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17773037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoldthetruethebrave/pseuds/theoldthetruethebrave
Summary: The night before Jon leaves for Dragonstone, he and Sansa Stark share an intmate night where they show each other their scars.





	Scars

The dancing yellow candlelight was the only warmth in the room besides the two bodies sleeping in the Lord’s chamber, cuddled up together for the pulsating warmth that the two offer each other.

Outside, the wind howls like a lone wolf, and stars hang in the black sky as if hung up by a thread. 

Sleepily, Sansa Stark opens her eyes. Her head is laid across Jon Snow’s chest, and she yawns, brushing her fingers across his chest. 

“Jon, I can’t sleep” she murmurs, and brushes a loose, curly strand of auburn hair behind a ear. 

“Me either” his husky voice is hoarse, as if speaking gives him pain. Sansa knows why he’s so agitated, and has been for days now. He’s leaving her, going across the continent, risking his life to meet with a woman who has raised dragons. 

Sansa picks at a loose thread at Jon’s thin white tunic. “Jon, I...I know we shouldn’t have done this”

“Aye, it’s not like we did anything wrong, love. We just fell asleep beside each other”

It’s true. Despite a longing deep inside of the pit of both of their stomachs, nothing else happened. Sansa woke up earlier in the night due to a night terror, and her shouts woke Jon up, who spent at least an hour caressing her and murmuring her back to sleep. 

“I just can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow” Sansa’s words barely leave her lips. She didn’t even want them to. She knows - both of them know - how dangerous it is. Faces start to appear in her head. Mother. Father. Robb. All gone South, to never return. Shivering, she pulls Jon closer to her, and gives his torso a tight squeeze.

“I don’t want to loose you” she murmurs into his tunic. 

“I’d rather die than loose you” Jon says, placing a kiss on the top of her head gingerly. “But I must go”

Sansa closes her eyes. She wants to live in this moment, this moment of safety, and love, and warmth, for the rest of her days. She didn’t want to open her eyes and face the truth of her reality. 

“Sansa” he says softly. Sansa’s always loved how he says her name. He says it like a wish, like a breath out to the stars late at night. “Sansa, I want to show you something”

Jon slowly starts to sit up, and Sansa takes her head from his chest, and the two sit shoulder to shoulder.

“You know what happened to me when I was serving for the Nights Watch” Jon says. His voice becomes quiet, and his deep brown eyes stare down at his chest.

“Yes” Sansa’s reply is instantaneous. Jon told her what happened on the night they were reunited. 

About half a year ago, Jon was stabbed to death by his brothers of the watch. After stabbing him, they left him to bleed out in the cold snow. The red Lady Melisandre brought him back to life, pulling him from the cold, gnarled hands of death, and bringing Jon to her. 

“I wanted to show you these, before I go”  
With those words, Jon pulls his tunic above his head, and tosses it off the bed in one swift, quick movement. 

Sansa couldn’t help but draw in a sharp, quick shocked breath as she stared at the deep, dark scars etched all over Jon’s chest. 

Slowly, she holds out her hand, palm facing Jon. With just her fingertips, she caresses his chest, her fingers sliding in and out of the grooves of his scars. Holding her breath, she leans forward and presses the gentlest kiss she could possibly muster, on one of his scars, the one closest to his heart. 

Her eyes tearing up, she leans away, and nervously knots her fingers together. “I didn’t know it was that...that inhumane”

Jon smiles, brushes a runaway tear that was sliding down her left cheekbone with the back of his hand. “I didn’t show you them to upset you, love. I just wanted to show you something I’ve never shown anyone before”

Her head rising upwards, Sansa starts to untie her nightgown. 

Jon freezes, and his eyes widen. “What-What are you-“

“Shh” she says. “I want to show you something, too” 

Underneath her silk nightgown is a soft cotton slip Sansa made for herself to keep her warm at night, so she wasn’t completely bare. Slowly turning her back to Jon, she lets the nightgown fall off her shoulders, the smooth silk brushing her scarred skin. 

She can hear Jon’s sharp inhale, and through the corner of her eye, she spots him biting his fist, as if to suppress a scream. 

“I know, they look bad” she says softly. “Ramsay did that to me, back when I was his wife”

She can feel Jon’s fingers caress her shoulder blades and mid-back with his fingers, slowly tracing them up and down. “Sansa...I’m so, so sorry”

“Don’t be” she says, “it’s nowhere near your fault”

And to her surprise, Jon starts laying a thousand gentle kisses up and down her back, so gently she could hardly feel them, but she could feel the sensation of his lips on her skin.

When he was done, he turns Sansa around, and places a passionate kiss on her mouth. When he was finished, the two sat there, gasping for air, and drowning in each other’s eyes. For a moment, a fleeting moment, everything was forgotten. The Great War, the dragon queen, Cersei, everything. And all that was left was the two of them, staring at each other like the other was the sun itself.

“I suppose we both have scars” Sansa smiles, placing her hand on Jon’s cheek. “And that’s okay”


End file.
